Where smiles have only a fitful play,
Where hearts are breaking every day?
"Nothing to do?" thou Christian soul,
Wrapping thee round in thy selfish stole,
Off with the garments of sloth and sin;
Christ thy Lord hath a kingdom to win.
"Nothing to do?" there are prayers to lay
On the altar of incense day by day;
There are foes to meet within and without;
There is error to conquer, strong and stout.